


All Goes Wrong

by Beki1507



Series: Fortuitous [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Communication Failure, EMT Ian Gallagher, First Dates, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beki1507/pseuds/Beki1507
Summary: After a few failed attempts, Mickey and Ian are ready for their date. But after bringing them together, is fate now working against them?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Fortuitous [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564804
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	All Goes Wrong

He slammed the door into its frame and startled the shit out of Mandy. She peered over the back of the sofa and eyed him curiously. The date was due to start at 8pm, it was only 9:30pm. She couldn’t imagine something having gone wrong. Her brother had been practically glued to his phone since he had left the hospital three weeks ago. Hobbling over in to the kitchen, he yanked the fridge door nearly off its hinges and grabbed two beers. He slumped on to the sofa next to Mandy. She reached over to grab her beer but Mickey held it aloft, knocking back the first in three large gulps before starting on the second.

“Erm, hi. What happened?” Mandy asked tentatively.

“Fucker stood me up.”

“Whatcha mean?” She was a little puzzled that Ian would not show. He had been so enthusiastic at the hospital and then in the weeks since Mickey had come home. There had been one last minute cancellation on both sides; Ian’s due to a family emergency and the time Mickey had experienced an unfavourable side effect to the amount of painkillers he was ingesting. However, it seemed like both of them were finally lining up their schedules and were on course for the best first date possible. Except, clearly that hadn’t happened.

“Ian. He didn’t show. I was at the restaurant. The one he chose. I was sitting at the fucking table. I had the waiter walk past me a fuck ton of times. Each time his expression was getting more and more fucking condescending. 40 minutes later, I fucking bailed. I’m done.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. Did you call him?”

“No, I just sat there with my dick in my hand waiting for him to magically appear.” Mandy was about to interject with some witty remark before she was promptly stopped. “Not fucking literally, Jesus Christ. Yes, I tried to contact him but I got nothing in return. Fucker led me on.”

“Nah, nope, no way. He is in to you. There must be a reason…”

15 hours earlier - 6:30am

Mickey woke from a fairly restful sleep and stretched deeply, hearing his body crack and pop in a way only a good stretch can bring on. He rolled over on to his side and picked up his phone. Smiling to himself, he unlocked it and read the message that Ian had sent. A short but sweet good morning greeting. They hadn’t yet been on their date. Family drama and a little bad luck getting in their way. Tonight was the night though. Finally. Mickey was still sporting the boot on his left leg but the arm was now free of the cast and his ribs were healing nicely. More than anything, he was just ready to see whether under normal circumstances there was anything between him and Ian. He grabbed the crutches from the side of his bed and hopped his way to the bathroom. If he was being honest, he was going a little stir crazy in the house. Three weeks of no working had seen him storm through most of the Netflix offerings, dabble with some small home improvement projects and annoy the shit out of Mandy – though that probably wasn’t related to his injuries but rather the ease in which he always could.

He balanced precariously on his good foot whilst he peed and ran through a checklist of to do’s before the date that evening. As he finished off, washing his hands in the sink, his phone started to ring.

“ _Morning_.” Ian said chirpily. Mickey instantly smiled before shaking his head. They still hadn’t been on a date yet but he was feeling more for this guy than he ever had for anyone else before.

“Morning. We still on for tonight?”

“ _Got my clothes picked out and everything. Just gotta get through the next 10 hours on the rig and I’m there with bells on._ ” Realising that he couldn’t hobble, hold his crutch and cradle his phone to his ear, Mickey perched himself on the edge of the tub and listened to Ian ramble about his shift the day before. “ _The good news is, a heavy day is usually followed by a more chilled day, so all being well I will be finished by 5pm, home by 5:45pm and meeting you outside Salvi’s at 8. You gonna be there?”_ He questioned, trying to be confident but Mickey could detect an undertone of uncertainty in his voice.

“With bells on.” They signed off the call and went about their day as planned.

****

“So if you were both so eager to see each other, it makes no sense for him not to show up?” Mandy stated having listened to Mickey recall their earlier conversation. He sighed heavily, realising she made sense but still being unable to figure out what had gone wrong.

****

“Gallagher, you’re riding with Chris today. Sue’s called in sick.” Ian glanced over at the older guy and inwardly groaned. It wasn’t that Chris was boring, it was just that Chris made Ian want to shove hot pokers in his eyes as a form of entertainment whenever he was around. He smiled pleasantly as Chris readjusted his uniform, which was ill-fitting over his slightly rotund frame. He grabbed his trusty journal from his locker and slipped it into his bag. Ian knew that each entry was a brief description of the patient and their injuries. He didn’t really want to question why.

They sat down at the break table and knocked back a cup of coffee each. Ian was mindlessly flicking through his phone, reading some of the messages he had been sending and receiving from Mickey. It had been a long while since he had been on a proper date. After Caleb, it had been a string of random hook ups but nothing more. He liked being able to scratch the itch and then come back to his normal routine. He glanced up at Chris and sighed inwardly, thankful that his evening plans should hopefully make up for a dull shift.

“You ready, Gallagher?” Chris questioned as he moved to walk from the table. Ian nodded and sauntered over to the sink to wash his mug. He didn’t know when or how it happened, but one minute the mug and his phone were in his hands and the next the mug was on the floor, smashed into earthenware fragments and his phone was sinking to the bottom of the hot, soapy dish water. He froze for a second, eyes flitting between the two before reality seeped in.

“Shit!” Ian reached into the hot water and grabbed his phone. It was absolutely sodden. “No, no, no, no, no. Shit, fuck, no.” He grabbed a towel and wrapped it up, trying to remove as much water as possible.

“Rice.” Chris said randomly from over his shoulder. Ian quirked his brow as he continued to give the phone the rub down of its life, “You need a container and rice. Stick it in and then leave it.” Chris began to snoop through the cupboards of the station, figuring there would be a packet of uncooked rice somewhere. Eyeing a bag tucked away in the corner, he grabbed a Tupperware from the side, poured in the contents then motioned for Ian to hand over his phone. He buried it and then moved it to a safe corner in their rudimentary kitchen.

“Erm, thanks.” Ian uttered, still unsure whether this hair brained idea would work but Chris had said it with so much conviction that he wasn’t about to question it.

“No problem. You ready now?”

****

Mickey glanced at the clock, staring as the minute hand ever so slowly ticked by. It was 5pm and he’d done the grand total of watch two films, nap, clean the kitchen, nap again, and spoken with his lawyer. He’d heard a few days prior that they were bringing criminal charges against his previous boss who had known about the dangers of the building, information that had been held from Mickey. He was just hoping that the evidence he could provide would see the bastard get locked up for the death of Preston. The conversation was tiring and fraught, but he reasoned a long shower and a couple of drinks and he’d be ready to see Ian.

He prepped and preened himself in a way he hadn’t for a long while. Every surface was cleaned, paying extra attention to the more intimate areas. He didn’t know whether sex would be on the cards but it was always good to be prepared. To be fair, he didn’t know whether his body could handle a good fucking given his still healing body, but sometimes you can just tell when a guy will be good and Ian looked like he would be that kind of guy, so he would give it a good go. He hopped none too gracefully into his bedroom and chose his outfit for the night, black button down with black jeans that maybe accentuated his ass a little. He reluctantly put on the boot, counting down the days until his got the all clear from his doctor. It was still relatively early, 6:30pm, but he figured he’d have a drink then catch the L. It was at least 45 minutes on the train to Downtown.

****

“Station 14, Card 29. Multiple vehicular accident. E. 26th and S. Michigan. Can you copy?” Ian heard Rita respond to the shout and hoped he wouldn’t be chosen to attend. He was staring at the box of rice that held his phone, willing it to come to life once he dared to take it out. He didn’t want to have to deal with a car accident, nor did he want to run the risk of potentially being in a rush to get to the restaurant.

“Ian, Chris, you’re up.” Dutifully, he tore his eyes away from the box and grabbed his kit. He hoped among all things that this was merely a mini bump and they’d be back for him to finish work on time. It was only 4pm so he had a little wiggle room but not much.

Chris drove to the site and Ian knew immediately that this wouldn’t be a quick turnaround. He sighed heavily and merely hoped that he was able to save everyone. Jumping out of the rig, he dashed to the first responder before being directed to the blue station wagon. He knelt down by the side of the car and smiled pleasantly at the older woman, the slightly pungent aroma of alcohol filling his senses.

“Hi ma’am, my name is Ian. What’s your name?”

“Jane. Jane Kingston.” She mumbled, clearly in pain and struggling to gain a full lung of breath

“Ok, Jane. Can you tell me where it hurts?” Ian questioned, performing a visual examination first before trying to touch anything on her. He was watching the flinches and moments of pain when she moved a certain way to try and establish the troublesome spots. After a short while, Ian realised that while she wasn’t seriously injured, they would have to take her out on a back board and given that the entire car was squished on all sides, it would take more than a few minutes to sort out. He made Jane as comfortable as possible before formulating a plan with the firefighters.

****

Mickey made his way on to the L and took a seat near the door. The only downside to having moved out of the Southside and so far out of the city was that it took a long while to get where you needed to be. He didn’t fancy having to stand for the whole journey, so he made his boot prominent in view so he wouldn’t be scorned at for taking a seat and settled in for the ride. It had been a long while since he last went on a date. His last date, if you could actually call it that was with a petite red head. He had a type, he was coming to realise. They had met at a club one night and though it wasn’t fireworks, it was enough for Mickey to willingly go back to his place. The sex was average. He’d topped, which wasn’t his preference, but he’d got off so it wasn’t a complete disaster. Mickey tried to remember his name, B something. Barry? Blake? Byron? Yeah, it was Byron. They had gone for brunch, of all things, the following morning and a gig that night. It fizzled out quickly though.

Mickey wasn’t one to open up to anyone easily. However, the last three weeks talking to Ian had seen him spill more information about himself than he’d done in his entire life. Obviously, he left out the more off putting elements of his childhood, through to his teen years and basically up to the point two weeks before meeting Ian for the first time when he had been living under the spectre of Terry fucking Milkovich. Sure, he had mentioned in passing the aborted suicide attempt when he was 17 years old on their first meeting, though he doubted that Ian would have remembered that. Then there were the references to the beat downs he would get, but apart from that, Mickey had held back on the grisly reality of growing up a Milkovich. Maybe he just wanted to enjoy at least a few weeks of pretending that he was well adjusted.

He watched the suburbs turn to the outskirts of the city, finally coming out in downtown Chicago. The train pulled up to the platform and he slowly made his way out into the fresh, evening air. It wasn’t far to the restaurant and as it was approaching their meeting time, Mickey made his way over, pushing his nerves to the base of his stomach as best as he could. Pulling open the door to the restaurant, he was overwhelmed by the noise. It had been a while since he had last been in a public place. Even before his accident, he very rarely ventured out far. Mainly to the café around the corner from his work or occasionally he and Mandy would go out for burgers and beers. He realised in that moment that maybe he should have suggested that instead. This was way above his limit.

“So, yeah hi. I’m meeting someone here. Table for two, booked under Gallagher.” Mickey said as he approached the hostess stand. A petite brunette greeted him with a warm smile and grabbed two menus. She motioned for him to follow her before leading him into the main room, which was bustling with people. He looked around and took in the décor. It screamed rustic Italian, with an actual olive tree in the centre of the room. There was a bar on one end and a private room at the other, which was lined with numerous bottles of wine. The hostess led him to his table and went to light the candle in the centre. Mickey wrinkled his nose slightly before allowing her to continue.

“I will bring your guest over once they arrive. Your waiter, Damon, will be with you shortly to take your drinks order. If you have any questions or requests, just let him know and he will be able to help.” She smiled brightly before leaving Mickey to his own devices. He perused the menu for a moment, even though he’d already eyed up the rib eye steak and decided on that, cooked one notch up from mooing. His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the various different patrons. Some that were clearly on a date, others that were now in more comfortable relationships.

“Good evening, Sir. My name is Damon and I will be your waiter this evening. Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“Erm, yeah a beer please.”

“Certainly. Would you like some bread or olives while you wait?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

Damon returned a few minutes later with the beer and a pleasant smile. Mickey nervously checked his phone to see what time it was. 10 minutes late. Not the end of the world. He drummed his fingers against the table before flicking through his various social media accounts. His sister had sent him a funny clip on twitter, which passed all of two minutes. He drank his beer. He googled his brother’s name to see if he could locate him through police reports or news articles. He fired off a quick message to Ian to check that he was still coming. He finished his beer and Damon was there within seconds.

“Another one?” He asked as he picked up the empty glass from the table. Mickey shifted uncomfortably, knowing that he probably shouldn’t be necking drinks so quick but realising that Ian would be there shortly so it would look odd if he was sitting with nothing.

“Sure, and can you bring one for my friend. He’ll be here soon.” Damon nodded before wandering off. Mickey looked round the restaurant before checking his phone again. 25 minutes late.

Mickey had drained his second beer and could feel his anger begin to bubble under the surface. He could understand if Ian was just late, but the asshole hadn’t even let him know. Not that Mickey was the epitome of good manners but this was just rude. He reasoned he would give him another 10 minutes and then he’d bail.

They were the longest 10 minutes of his life. 

Realising that Ian had stood him up, he called Damon over and asked for the check. Mickey reached over the table and drank Ian’s beer down as quickly as possible, not wanting to waste something he was about to pay for. He gave Damon his bill and a sizeable tip and left.

As he walked out onto the street, Mickey grabbed a smoke from his pocket and lit in. He went to dial Ian’s number but stopped himself. He wasn’t some bitch who chased after guys that had clearly screwed him over.

****

It was 8:30pm and they’d only just made it to the hospital with Jane. Ian had been professional on the outside but internally he was on the verge of committing homicide. He was fidgeting as Chris drove back to the station, Ian realising that he couldn’t just cut out and head to the restaurant without signing out. Chris kept throwing furtive glances in his direction.

“Right, spit it out Gallagher. What’s wrong?”

“I had a fucking date and now I’m late. God forbid you try to have a social life with this job.” Chris laughed to himself, completely understanding the predicament.

“Where?”

“Huh?”

“Where was the date?”

“Salvi’s downtown.” Ian replied as he bounced his right leg against the floor, “Was my choice and I’ve fucked it up.” Chris flicked on the turn signal and deviated from the route back to the station.

“If he likes you enough to agree to a date, then I’m sure he won’t mind you in your work uniform. Let’s see how quick we can get you there.” He said as he flicked on the sirens. Ian smirked with appreciation.

They pulled up outside the restaurant and Ian quickly jumped out. He dashed to the hostess stand and waited. The small woman that had greeted Mickey came up a few moments later. Staring at the breathless man in an EMT uniform, she was certain that no one had called for assistance.

“Hi, yeah, I’m on a date. Gallagher, or I might have booked it under Ian. I’m late. I don’t know.” Her face dropped and he could read the sympathy that radiated from her eyes.

“Ah, Mr Gallagher. I’m afraid your date left a short while ago.” Ian felt the bottom drop out of his soul as he realised he had messed up. He ran his hands over his face before exhaling heavily, “I’m sorry.”

Ian wandered back outside, hoping that Chris hadn’t left just yet. He was relieved to see the ambulance still parked by the curb. He approached the passenger side and slumped into the seat. Chris didn’t say a word, simply turned on the ignition and headed back to the station. Their third attempt at a date since they had reconnected and it had resulted in them still not meeting up again. Ian was beginning to think that the fates had decided that they were solely in charge of when and where they met.

“I’ll text him when I get back to the station and apologise.” Ian muttered, as he watched the city go by.

“If your phone is back up and running again, eh?”

“Motherfucker.”

****

After his fourth beer, Mickey had retreated to his bedroom. It wasn’t particularly late but Mandy was watching some programme that he didn’t care about and he could feel the pity radiating off her. He had thrown all his eggs in one basket and all of them had come out cracked. Their third attempt at meeting up in a non-perilous situation. Their third failure to meet. The fact that Ian had dropped off the face of the Earth, not even attempting to let Mickey down gently was just a further slap across the face, punch in the nuts, piss on his parade shit show. He flopped down on his bed and scrolled through the messages. There was absolutely nothing that would indicate this outcome was on the cards. Mickey sighed heavily before lobbing the phone to the opposite side of his room.

****

“Your rice trick didn’t fucking work, Chris.” Ian cursed as he frantically tried to make his phone work once again. Chris stood meekly by his side, feeling guilty even though he wasn’t responsible for the phone falling in water nor the phone failing to dry in a tried and tested manner. He figured it may have something to do with the limited time he’d had the phone chilling in its rice cocoon but he couldn’t be sure.

“You know this is the only place I have his fucking number. I don’t know where he lives. I’ve literally lost contact with him again. Who the fuck makes a mental note of people’s numbers these days?” Ian slumped into his chair, letting his head fall back. It was 10:00pm and he should have been finishing off a beer, planning how he would get Mickey to his because Ian would totally put out on the first date. Instead, he was sitting in his crappy workplace with his phone languishing in fucking basmati rice.

“What’s his name?” Chris questioned, breaking Ian’s morose moment.

“Mickey.”

“That’s great but do we have a surname?”

“Milkovich.” Chris nodded before retrieving his own phone, as if to add insult to injury. “Why?” Chris shushed him with his hands as he waited for the person he was calling to pick up.

“Hey babe,” Ian’s head shot up at the greeting, wondering how he didn’t know that Chris had a ‘babe’ in his life. “Can you do something on the down low? Need you to see if you can get an address for a Mickey Milkovich. Yeah, M-I-L-K-O-V-I-C-H.” Ian watched as the man in front of him metamorphosed from straight laced and boring to flirty and slightly dirty, if the payment options for said information was anything to go by. “Nothing for Mickey. Gimme a second. Yo Gallagher, your man got a flatmate or something?”

“He lives with his sister.” Chris looked at him as if to communicate that he needed more than just relationship to the man in question. “Oh, Mandy.” Chris resumed his conversation before rummaging around the small kitchen space for a pen and paper. He jotted down an address.

“Thank you baby. Will see you soon. Yeah, I’m down for some mac and cheese tonight.” He ended the call before laying the piece of paper in front of Ian. “Your future boyfriend’s sister came to your rescue. She was pulled over last year and may have been slightly over the limit. Got let off but her address is still in the system. You’re welcome.” Ian’s eyes widened at the information and he rose from his seat. Throwing his arms around Chris, he quickly pulled back wondering if the gesture was over familiar.

“How? Who’s baby?” Ian asked

“My girlfriend, well fiancée. We’re getting married in a few months. She works for Chicago PD. Just, don’t tell anyone alright. I don’t do it that often, but you looked like a kicked puppy and I felt bad for you.” Ian didn’t care for his reasons. He was just immensely happy with the outcome. “Want me to drop you off?”

**** 

Mickey rose from his bed and wandered down to the kitchen. It was a little after 11pm but he was ready to hit the hay and call it a night. Tomorrow he would pick himself up, but tonight he was just going to mope like a little bitch and try to forget what a fucking idiot he had been. He resolved to go back to quick fucks and temporary pleasures. He’d been celibate for the last 3 weeks, and only part of that was due to being laid up with a duff arm and foot. It had been too long.

He glanced down at his sister, who had fallen asleep on the sofa as she often did. Throwing a blanket over her, he walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He knocked back a couple of Tylenol as well. His attention was broken by a knock at the door. Mickey quirked his eyebrow, wondering who could be knocking at this late hour. They very rarely had guests. The only people to knock at the door were takeout delivery drivers. Everyone else invited generally called before turning up, and they were few and far between. Making his way to the door, he made sure that they hadn’t disturbed his sister before realising that she could probably sleep through the end of the world and merely wake up after for a quick snack. Mickey peered through the peephole and his eyebrows rose ever higher. Unlatching the door, he pulled it open and stared at the man in front of him.

“You have every right to be pissed off at me and Lord knows you probably want to kill me, but hear me out first.” Sheer shock at seeing the redhead in front of him stunned Mickey into silence, allowing Ian to continue. “I broke my phone earlier and it’s currently sitting in a box of rice. No one keeps actual numbers on them these days so I couldn’t call you. I had a shout that lasted until after we were supposed to meet. This little old lady had decided that alcohol was a good thing to drink prior to driving. She’s fine but it meant that by the time we got done, I had to come to the restaurant in my uniform but you’d already left and I so didn’t want this shit to happen and I know making plans on a work day is the shittest idea going but I’m sorry.”

Mickey looked Ian up and down, taking in his dishevelled appearance, the EMT uniform that he was still adorned in, the fraught look in his eyes. He knew Ian used to be an actor, but even he couldn’t have pulled off this if it were a lie.

“How did you know where I live?” Mickey questioned. Ian rubbed his neck and bit his lip nervously.

“Yeah, that. Turns out my buddy knows someone who may or may not be able to view police records and may and may not have found you through Mandy.” He shuffled his feet where he stood, staring down at the doorstep, beginning to realise that maybe finding the address in such a manner was borderline stalker territory. “Look, I’m sorry. I just…” He paused for a second, realising what he wanted to say would likely make Mickey run for the hills, “You saved my life, literally and then there was nothing. And then I helped save yours years later and it was so fucking random. We have this connection, I think, and I feel like the universe wants us to be in each other’s lives. I didn’t want to have to wait another 2 or 3 or 10 years to meet you again because everything went wrong today. So, if I messed up, if what I did was wrong, then ok,” Ian held his hands up and stepped back, signalling that he would admit defeat. Mickey didn’t allow him to step back any further though. He grabbed his work shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him chastely at first before feeling Ian respond. Within seconds, their tongues were fighting for dominance and their bodies were pressed tightly together. Their moment was broken with a lone man’s whooping and horn honking from the car parked a short way from them on the road. Mickey drew back from Ian and peered over his shoulder.

“That your buddy?”

“Yeah, that’s Chris. Turns out his fiancée works for Chicago PD.” Mickey threw a brief wave in Chris’s direction before laughing at Ian’s thumbs up. They watched as he started the engine and drove off into the night. Grabbing hold of Ian’s hand, Mickey pulled him into the house. They walked past the sofa and Ian glanced down at the sleeping woman, laughing at how her face was mushed into the cushion.

“So, this is our home.” Mickey stated, before reeling off the different rooms, “Bedroom’s upstairs. You wanna see it?” Ian grinned as his eyes flitted up and down the man in front of him.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> So they finally got together! In this universe, they have the normal bumps in the road, but they do end up happy and married before dying in old age. The reason they couldn't find Mickey was because that's not his legal first name. Ian doesn't find out that they should have been searching for Mikhailo until a few months down the line. Chris is a little dodgy, with his notebook of accidents and his information giving fiancee, but he's harmless. 
> 
> Please feel free to give kudos and comments. I had a blast writing this little series so hope that you all enjoyed it. Plus, I'm a simple girl who craves validation. 
> 
> A few tid-bits -  
> All titles are songs but they're not lyrically related to the story. The titles just fit the mood of each part. (Artists: The Fray (How to Save a Life), Foo Fighters (I Should Have Known) and Chase & Status (All Goes Wrong)  
> Salvi's is a real restaurant, though not in Chicago.


End file.
